Our Great Escape
by truthandfireworks
Summary: Trying to escape Hogwarts proves to be almost as difficult to escape as Azkaban. FW/BCJr
1. Chapter 1

"Don't you see? It's simple!" the ginger bounded from his chair into the other man's lap. "You and me – we'll just get out of here and no one has to know!"

"No one has to know," the Death Eater replied sarcastically. "And George?"

Cupping Barty's face, Fred shook his head. "No," he replied quietly. "Not even George has to know." He leaned down and kissed him softly. "I've spent all my life thinking that George would be the only person that would understand me and," he kissed the tip of Barty's nose, "turns out I was wrong." Wrapping his arms around Barty's neck, Fred leaned in and smelled the familiar smell of Barty's shirt. "You and me. Everyone else doesn't matter."

He pulled Fred up by the back of his shirt and stared at him blankly. "You don't think if a professor randomly _vanished_ and a student _vanished_ they wouldn't go looking for them? Seriously, Fredrick, what would people think?"

After pondering for a moment, Fred's serious expression broke out into a grin. "Lucky professor?"

"No, Fredrick," he rested his head in his palm. "I told you months ago that what we have here is wrong."

"I know-"

"And that it would just be easier, for both of us, if you just … forgot we ever met." He looked up and saw Fred nod sadly. "Oh, Fredrick," he started again. "I didn't mean-"

"Fine," Fred hopped out of his lap. "Then do it."

"What?" Barty's eyed widened. "No, Fredrick, I-"

"Do it," Fred crossed his arms. "I'm only in your way, right?"

"Fredrick-"

"If I'm not in your way, prove it," Fred leaned against the desk, cocking his head to the side. "Prove that I'm not just a waste of space."

"I love you," Barty blurted out rather messily.

"You _pardon me_?" Fred's jaw dropped.

Barty nodded. "You stepped into my office and I felt disgusted with myself for letting you stay. And it felt wrong, you staying here. And I was confused as to why I let you back every time. And then, a month or so ago, I realized – I absolutely adore you. I love you, Fredrick." He hadn't even taken a breath before Fred's lips were pressed against his own. "I love you," he mumbled against Fred's lips. "I really do, Fredrick."

"Okay," Fred whispered, planting soft kisses on Barty's cheek. "Okay, then," he nodded once. "Okay." Trying to control the silly grin on his face, Fred spoke softly. "Then you and me, Barty. We're going to get out of here. And they won't ever find us."

"How?" Barty touched his well-kissed bottom lip and furrowed his brow. "Fredrick," he pulled his sleeve down and exposed his wrist. "I'm branded for life. No matter where I go or what I do, Fredrick, he can find me."

"There has to be something," Fred's voice cracked. "You can get rid of it, right?"

"I don't know, Fredrick," Barty murmured. "It's a brand. It's something that isn't supposed to wear away or fade. It's a symbol of my devotion to The Dark Lord. I can't just get rid of it."

"Well," Fred rubbed his cheek in deep thought. "There's got to be someone smarter than old Voldemort who can-"

"Please don't' say his name," Barty winced slightly.

"Oh," Fred nodded. "Well, You-Know-Who. There's got to be someone smarter than him who could help us." Fred went through a list of people he knew. "My father-"

"Would have me thrown back in Azkaban," Barty pursed his lips. "And after he's heard about you and me? He'll think I had you under Imperius and that I… that… that this-"

"Okay, okay," Fred nodded. "I guess that rules out my mother as well."

"Fredrick," Barty tried to sound calm as he sat back in his chair. "If you want your family to be safe, you won't bring them into this."

"Right," Fred nodded and started chuckling to himself.

"What?" Barty looked up, grinning at the sound of Fred's laugh.

His chuckle now evolved into full, uproarious laughter, Fred spoke quickly. "I was about to say, 'Let's ask Harry what to do'." With a thud, Fred's body met the unforgiving floor.

"You deserved that."

"I know."

The rest of the evening went similarly. Naming person after person and wondering if they could help. And although some brilliant minds were brought to the table, it was clear that they would not be interested in helping or they were dead.

"Merlin," the ginger sighed.

"He's very dead, Fredrick."

"I meant- oh nevermind."

By one o'clock that night, they had migrated to Barty's room and curled up underneath his heavy quilt. "There's one person I keep thinking of, but I don't think he'd help." Fred yawned into the quilt.

"Oh?" Barty wrapped his arm around the sleepy ginger and pulled him against his side. "Who is that?"

"'Um'l'o," Fred yawned loudly. Shaking his head to stay awake, he spoke again. "I mean, Dumbledore."

"Fredrick-"

"No, no, hear me out!" The exhaustion in his voice was the only think Barty could hear. "Barty-"

"Fredrick," he fit his arm under him and held him close, kissing his forehead. "Tell me tomorrow, okay? Right now, you need to sleep. Understood?"

Silence.

"Understood?"

Silence.

"Fredrick?"

A light snoring came from the other form in the bed. Barty watched as Fred's freckled nose scrunched up slightly with every breath he took. His hair, no matter how many times Barty teased him about it, was his favourite. It was vibrant and in the light, went slightly blonde at the tips. And it was never greasy or stringy, but always messy. As if he had just rolled out of bed and decided that a comb was too much effort. He remembered the first time his fingers twirled Fred's hair around them. Their first kiss. A feeling had shot through his body that night. Like a cold shower or a hand on the stove. It was quick, painful and it was something he couldn't quite explain. Months later, he knew.

"_Goodnight, Barty," Fred pecked him on the cheek. "Don't forget, we have a pop quiz tomorrow."_

_He laughed loudly. "Aren't I supposed to be reminding you, Fredrick?" _

_Shaking his head, Fred grabbed Barty by the hair and kissed him softly. "Goodnight." _

_Barty watched that mop of ginger hair run out into the darkness of the hallway and disappear behind a tapestry. He imagined him, briefly, running out from the wall and throwing his arms around him, kissing him again and prolonging their goodbye. He felt his ears grow hot at the thought of seeing Fred again. His stomach knotted tightly and he felt lightheaded. "Bollocks." _

--

"Oh, _shit_," Fred bolted out of the bed, throwing the quilt on top of Barty.

"Good morning to you too," Barty laughed, pressing the quilt around him to see Fred. "What's wrong?"

"I need my books," Fred muttered, pulling his trainers on.

"I see," Barty pulled the covers up to his chin and grinned. "Well, I'll see you later then?"

"Mhmm," Fred threw himself on top of the Death Eater and grinned. "Oh, did you mean in class or did you mean later tonight?"

"Both," Barty grinned up at him. "Both will suffice."

Fred leaned down, running his hand through Barty's hair and kissing him slowly. He felt Barty's breath hitch when he slid his tongue against his. "Try not to miss me too much, yeah?"

Nodding slowly, trying to unscramble his brain from the assault on his mouth, Barty spoke. "Er, yes. I'll make sure not to miss you." He grinned and pulled Fred against him again. "You have my class first-"

"Yes," Fred grinned.

"Would it kill you to be late?" Barty said quickly, running his hands up Fred's thighs.

"N-No," Fred grinned. "But don't take away points. This was, after all, _your_ idea."

"Alright, Fredrick," he whispered happily. "But after that, you'll go about your day; you'll have dinner and then come back here?"

"Mhmm," Fred said, kicking his shoes off. "And we'll go back to trying to think of who could help?"

He pulled Fred by the backs of his knees, adjusting him on top of his hips. "Yes," he nodded. "We'll find someone."

"Promise?" Fred said, his limbs tangled in his shirt.

Tugging his shirt off, Barty laughed. "Promise."


	2. Chapter 2

The snow blew violently by the window. The wind whistled in the cracks in the glass and the cold air pushed its way to Fred's face. "Reparo!" He watched as the glass mended itself and cracked again from the cold. "Bugger."

"Here," Barty pulled him closer, rubbing his arms. "Better?"

"No," Fred laughed. "It's bloody freezing!" He leaned his weight on to Barty, wrapping his arms around his middle. "How are you not cold?"

"I am," Barty kissed the side of his head. "I just don't complain as much as you." He laughed as Fred smacked his back. "I was thinking about… the thing we were talking about last night."

"Oh?" Fred shivered. "Did you think of anyone?"

He pressed his lips against Fred's temple. "I think you might be right," he left a trail of warm kisses along the side of Fred's face. "I think our only chance of getting out of here is through Dumbledore." He flicked his tongue out against Fred's earlobe, grinning against his skin. "That man is our ti-"

"Okay," Fred shuffled over. "I'm all for kissing in the cold, but I refuse to listen to you gush about my Headmaster while you kiss me." He watched Barty's lips pout overdramatically. "Oh, don't."

"Oh, I will," Barty took his hand back and leaned against the cold stone wall. "You sit on your edge of the windowsill. And I'll sit on mine."

Fred turned and looked at him. "Alright, why do you think Dumbledore is a good idea?"

"Well," Barty tugged at his hair. "He's supposed to be caring and understanding and… and…" He sighed, tucking his bent legs close to his chest. "And that's as far as I got."

Fred's lips curled into a small smile. "Me too." He leaned over and grabbed Barty's hand. "I was thinking about it during dinner. I was looking up at the staff table-"

"Oh, you weren't just gazing up at me?" Barty smirked.

"Um, no," Fred scrunched his nose in protest. "No offense, but you don't have the nicest disguise."

"Fair enough," he laughed. "So, how… do we go about… speaking to him?"

"Not sure," Fred sighed. "But I do know this." He pointed his wand at the window and fixed the glass momentarily, only to hear it crack again in five seconds time. He shuffled over and kissed at Barty's cheek. "We're going to have to keep pretending that nothing is up. You and I are going to have to keep being who we have to be. I'll keep being obnoxious, you keep…" his voice trailed off. Kissing his cheek again, he smiled. "You keep doing what you do, and we'll be okay."

"We will?" Barty turned his head and kissed him properly.

"Of course," Fred grinned widely. "Somewhere between our double lives, we'll just go to Dumbledore, ask him for help, and beg that he doesn't turn us in to Azkaban."

"Oh," Barty laughed against Fred's cheek. "Is that all?" He kissed along his jaw, back up to his earlobe. "We don't have to plan how to, oh, I don't know, keep us from getting caught by the Death Eaters and The Order?"

Grinning, Fred turned his head. "We just went from talking about Dumbledore to talking about my parents," he felt his cheeks grow warmer. "You are definitely crossing a line here, Crouch."

"I think we've crossed enough lines," Barty laughed as he pulled himself on top of Fred. Their weight shifted and with a rather loud bang, the windowsill was vacant.

"Dumbledore," Fred croaked out. "We'll ask Dumbledore."

Barty sat up, rubbing the bump forming on his head. "Right. Dumbledore." He rolled on top of Fred, brushing away the fringe off his freckled forehead. "Got any plans as to how to speak to him about it?"

"No," Fred sighed. "It's getting late and-" The ginger bolted up quickly. "And you have a meeting you can't miss."

"Bollocks," Barty jumped up, running towards his room. "Bollocks, bollocks, bollo-"

"I get it," Fred bounced up, preparing the fireplace. "Bollocks."

"Took the words," Barty pulled his coat on and kissed a line of freckles up Fred's jaw, "right out of my mouth."

"Just get in and be safe," Fred pushed him towards the fireplace. "And-" he grabbed him by the shoulders. "I love you," he spun Barty around, kissing him softly.

"I'll be fine," Barty smiled softly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have," Barty's face contorted into a half-smile. "I have a meeting I can't miss." Stepping into the fireplace, Barty spoke clearly and loudly and with a _crack_! he was gone.

--

"Now," Moody spoke loudly as he scribbled the date on the board. "I want your essays on non-verbal spells turned in by the end of the week. For each day it is late, I will not hesitate in taking off five percent of your grade."

The class groaned in protest.

"Five percent?" George piped up. "But sir, I have a condition that only allows me to hand in my papers two days late."

"If your medical condition worsens, Mr. Weasley, then you will be repeating this course next year."

George had always had a strange fascination with getting a rise out of Moody. Moody was supposed to be, well, as George heard 'completely insane' and George Weasley was curious to see how a legitimate lunatic would respond to a little heckling.

They had a system, the twins. Everyone always said they equally terrorized staff members, when in actuality, the two had it split up evenly. Fred pestered McGonnagal, Flitwick and had a splendid time squeezing every last ounce of sanity out of Burbage. As the son of Arthur Weasley, why wouldn't he find amusement in torturing his Muggle Studies teacher?

George enjoyed the challenge of making the teacher twitch without them collapsing into a puddle. He tried his best to find the happy medium between 'raging lunacy' and 'emotional breakdown'. His regular victims were Trelawny, Sprout, Hooch and sometimes, on a bad day, Hagrid. George originally wanted to claim a monopoly over Snape, but then he realized he didn't want to spend detention alone and told Fred that Snape was a free-for-all.

"As said before, if your essay isn't in my hand at the end of Friday's lesson, there will b-" Moody hunched over, grabbing at his head.

"Oh sir," George laughed. "Old wounds kickin' up?" He nudged Fred in the ribs, encouraging him to laugh. "See, our consequence is that he'll try to scare us into handing it in on time!"

The entire class laughed as they piled out of the room, hurrying so as not to be late for Potions.

The entire class, minus Fred.

George was heard down the hall, laughing about how Moody was quite a good actor. "Barty?" Fred whispered, pulling the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher upright. "Barty, what's wrong?"

Half laying on the desk, Barty pointed frantically to his door. "It's wearing off."

Barty saw a flash of ginger bolt up the stairs to his study and zoom back down with a vial. "Here," Fred uncorked the bottle and poured the Polyjuice into Barty's mouth. "Here, here," he wiped Barty's mouth and clutched the vial tightly in his hands in anticipation.

"Thank you," Moody's voice grumbled, his body still hunched over the desk. "Now, get to class. I'll talk to you later, yes?"

Fred nodded, placing the empty vial near Barty's hand. He leaned over, his voice low. "After dinner?"

Barty nodded. "Go, go," he pointed to the door. "You're going to be late and people are going to get suspicious."

"Alright, alright," Fred laughed, walking towards the door. "Funny, though, I thought Polyjuice only affected your appearance, not your attitu-"

"Now," Moody pointed at the door.

Fred skulked through, disappointed that there was a double lesson of Potions before dinner today. That's why he didn't like Tuesdays. Statistically, Fred had more bad days on Tuesdays than on any other day of the week. Mondays were no walk in the park, but Defense was last before dinner and the wait wasn't so long. Wednesday meant that he was half-way through the week. Thursdays were the most productive day in Fred's week – he didn't have Defense at all and he focused on all his work to make sure he didn't have any homework before seeing Barty. Friday was, of course, his favourite. Fridays at Hogwarts, at least for Fred, meant that he could sneak about and not get in as much trouble, because everyone was sneaking out. George snuck out, Lee snuck out, Oliver snuck out – he wondered if Percy would ever sneak out, and then realized that as Head Boy, Percy had the ultimate advantage when it came to sneaking out. The one thing he envied about his older brother. Then again, Fred had gotten so good at sneaking out that Head Boy privileges or not, he would never get caught.

The door in front of him was familiar now, almost home-like. He waited as he heard Barty scramble from the other side of the door. "I don't care how messy it is," he laughed. "My room's a disaster too." The door opened and Fred saw Barty, in a coat and wrapped up in a scarf. He pulled on his mittens and grinned.

"Okay, Fredrick," he spoke softly, closing the door behind him. "All set?"

"'Course!" Fred grinned, grabbing Barty's gloved hand with his own. "I still can't believe you've never done this."

"I wasn't allowed to," Barty frowned, squeezing Fred's hand. "My father wouldn't allow such tomfoolery."

"Then your father would absolutely hate me," Fred squeezed back. "We're going to have to walk a little bit, I don't want us getting caught."

"Me neither," Barty responded without needing to. "How're we getting outside?"

Fred walked with one hand holding Barty's and the other holding the Marauder's Map. "Hmm," I was going to suggest the Witch statue, but seems someone's lurking about the exit."

"Who?" Barty asked, peeking over Fred's shoulder.

"Snape," Fred sighed, shoving the map in the back pocket of his trousers. "Alright, I vote on tapestry to the main floor and then behind the portrait of the girl holding a bouquet."

"That sounds good," Barty grinned, squeezing his hand again. "I'm really, very excited for this." He followed Fred through the passageway and didn't speak a word until they were behind the portrait of the young girl. "I'm actually, really going to do this!"

"I know," Fred beamed, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "What sort of life would you be leading if you didn't do this at least once in your life?" He pulled Barty along, grinning when he felt the cold wind brush his face. "Okay, from here, we're just going to have to be careful. Stick to the shadows until we reach the Northern side of the castle."

Barty nodded and followed Fred's footsteps in the fresh snow. His heart almost stopped at the sight. Hogwarts itself was beautiful, Barty had always thought so. The architecture, both inside and out was classic and timeless and aesthetically pleasing. He remembered the first night he showed up at Hogwarts, riding in the boat across the lake. The starts twinkled brighter out in the countryside, of course, but the stars that night shined brighter than any stars he had ever seen. The lanterns on the fronts of their boats cast a dim glow on their faces and on the water below them. Barty had been wondering if he could spot the Giant Squid that he had read about in Hogwarts: A History. And when he saw the castle in full, his heart skipped a little out of excitement. But this, what Barty felt as he saw the snow falling and swirling along the stone walls of the castle; this wasn't excitement or nervousness. It was simply beautiful.

"Here," Fred smiled, cupping Barty's cheeks with his gloved hand. He kissed him softly and looked around them. "Okay, do as I say, alright?"

Barty nodded. "It can't be all that complicated."

"Lie down," Fred whispered, helping Barty on to the ground. "Perfect. Now, wave your arms and move your legs about!" He watched as Barty struggled to find a rhythm and laughed when his limbs seemed to be flailing about with no sense of direction whatsoever. Fred flapped his arms in the air. "Like this! Barty," he laughed as he kneeled down, moving Barty's legs for him. "Just focus on your arms, okay?"

"Fredrick," Barty grinned brightly. "Fredrick, this is so much fun!" His arms flapped steadily, spreading and imprinting the snow. "How do I see what I've made?"

"Ah," Fred grinned knowingly. He stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. "Give me your arms, I'll pull you up."

Barty lifted his arms up towards Fred, trying to control his ridiculous grin. Fred grabbed his hands and as he pulled, Barty about half-way up, he lost his balance and sent Barty flying backwards, only to land on top of him a few seconds later. "Snow is tricky business, Fredrick."

"Ice is worse," Fred nudged his freckled nose against Barty's. He shivered when Barty cupped his face with his snow-covered mittens. "Your snow angel is going to be ruined! How am I going to get off of you without wrecking it?" Fred shook his head and kissed the man beneath him slowly, sliding his tongue across Barty's. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Fredrick?" Barty looked up at that mess of ginger hair and freckles. "Fredrick, I want you to know something-"

"Is it that your coat is soaked and your behind is frozen?"

"Besides that," Barty laughed, rolling Fred into the snow. "I just wanted you to know that I love you for this. Well, not just this, you understand, but," he looked down at Fred, still shivering slightly, "but all this. This 'just making sure' and 'everyone deserves this'," he sat up, pulling Fred up with him. "You care about me."

Fred wrapped his arms around Barty's neck and kissed him softly. "I don't care about you," he mumbled against his lips. "I love you," he flicked his gaze up to meet Barty's. "There's a massive difference."

The snow seemed to circle around them in tiny twisters. Miniature tornados of snow danced around them as more snow fell from the sky. Barty could feel Fred's cheeks growing colder as the wind swept up against them. They shivered whenever a cold blast would hit them unexpectedly. Barty's coat, damp from the snow angel, was now soaked with so much water, he felt as though his coat had gained five pounds. "Let's go, love," he smiled, pulling Fred up with him. "Can't have you getting sick."

"I won't get sick," Fred laughed, taking Barty's hand. "My behind is just… slightly more frozen than usual."

Barty burst out laughing. "Oh Fredrick," he pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. "I was thinking today-"

"Shock and awe," Fred laughed.

"What if we just wait till the summer? Everyone already thinks I'm in Azkaban. Moody's term will be up and you'll be on holidays. What if this summer, we just, I don't know, what if we just run?"

Fred chewed on his lip as Barty spoke. Of course he wanted to run. If he were to run, it would be with Barty. But he couldn't. "My parents…"

"Fredrick," Barty sighed, holding him even closer. "It's just an idea. It's not set in stone."

"It's just that if it's summer, they'll all be looking for me," Fred said matter-of-factly. "We need to get out immediately."

"I can't," Barty sighed as they turned into the passageway. "The Dark Lord knows I'm here. If I were to just disappear-"

"Then what are we going to do?" Fred looked up nervously.

Barty looked at the ginger. His eyes were sad, his eyebrows slightly raised. He pursed his lips like he did when he was nervous. He shouldn't've said anything. Barty should've just kept his mouth shut and just put off finding someone to help them. It would've been a thousand times easier than trying to find someone who could see what was happening. No Death Eater would help them, no Weasley or Order Member. There was no one, as Barty had originally thought. If there was one thing he had learned thus far about Fred, it was that he was always a rather optimistic person – always expecting the best from people. But the truth was, Barty knew not everyone was good on the inside. He might've been not-good on the inside, for all he truly knew. They were alone, the idealist and the realist, and no one would ever help them.

"We're going to enjoy this," Barty spoke quietly, kissing the freckles under Fred's bottom lip. "Whatever we have left, we're going to enjoy it."

"What do you mean 'whatever we have'?"

"I mean days, weeks, months, years, maybe even forever," Barty kissed him as he wrapped his arms around his middle. "Whatever we have, we're going to enjoy it."

Fred leaned his forehead against Barty's damp shoulder. "I can live with that."


End file.
